Ragnarok
by Kafers
Summary: Squall lives a somewhat normal life in York, England. But could a chance meeting, and things from the past brought to the surface, change everything forever? ::YAOI::
1. An interesting Site to see

Ever since I went to York last year, I've wanted to write about it. This story has been stuck in my head for a long time, and I've finally managed to put it into works. If anyone likes it, I'll finish it ^^ :::REVISED:::

Luv Kafers

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Ragnarok

By Kafers

Ranarok: The final battle where all the the forces of evil fight against the gods. - Snorri Sturluson's Edda

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We're losing control!"

"We can't fail now, Goddamnit! Gun the engine!"

"I can't! We're losing pressure too rapidly..."

"This stupid tin can is falling apart!"

"No! We can't lose it now!"

"Look out!!"

"Hold my hand.... one last time...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squall hit his alarm clock for the second time that day, after having put it on snooze the first time. It flew off his bedside table/bookshelf like a kamikaze pilot, spinning and tumbling and then bouncing along the floor with several crunching noises. Squall groaned. The only thing worse than getting up early, for him, was having to pick things up and put them back before he actually got up. It took too much thinking, but Squall hated stepping on sharp pointy things. Just like any other normal person.

He climbed out of bed with the grace of a molting bird, his hair matted and sticking out like ruffled feathers. He blew a stray lock of hair from between his eyes and rose, stumbling half-blind into the frame of his door. Rubbing his head and grumbling, he headed for the bath room.

A high, girly giggle burst suddenly from his flat mate's room, but Squall ignored it and carried on his march to the shower. His flat mate, an American student named Irvine, was always inviting girls into his room for 'slumber parties', as he liked to call them. Squall was used to hearing strange noises in the dead of night, but he usually slept through them anyway - he could sleep through a hurricane, as Irvine often said.

The flat wasn't very impressive, since Squall didn't earn that much, and all the money Irvine was sent by his 'folks back home' was spent on booze and women. Mostly on women. The flat had a nice sized living room, with a little kitchen at the back, behind a big wooden island that had obviously survived from the sixties. There was also a little corridor at the back, with two bedrooms on either wall - Squall on the left, Irvine on the right - and a bathroom at the end. The carpets were a disgusting brown, and the walls, which had probably once been white, were a washed out grey, covered in stains of an indeterminable nature. As far as flats went, it wasn't capital standard, but it wasn't squalor either.

The only thing that Squall really hated was the bathroom floor. The tiles were a muddy aqua, with - Squall was almost certain - every disease known to man, festering in the gaps between each one. As Squall opened the door, he pulled the cord to turn the light on, then cringed as a little brown bug scuttled along the floor and away under the skirting board. He really hated insects. Especially spiders, even though they technically weren't insects.

Squall, after much practice, had come up with a quick way for getting across to the bath without touching the floor too much. He crouched low at the door, holding the frame to give him balance. His legs coiled from under him like a giant cat's, sinewy muscle carrying him forward. His foot touched the ground briefly as he grabbed at the side of the bath, and he swung his legs over. Usually, these rather skilful - if a tad silly - gymnastics usually worked for Squall, when there was a mat in the bath, that is. Today, Squall was not so lucky. 

During one of Irvine more adventurous nights, he and girl X had decided to use the bath. Unfortunately for Squall, they had removed the anti-slip mat from the bottom of the bath (it was interfering with their fun), leaving only the slimy, smooth surface of the bath for Squall to land on. His feet slid away from under him, and Squall yelled as he fell backwards. With a loud crash he landed on his backside, his palms stinging as he tried to brace his fall. 

"Ow! Fucking hell!"

Irvine came running down the hall like the building was on fire.

"Squall! Hey, Squall! What happened? Are you ok?" He yelled, flinging the door open.

Squall looked contemptuously at Irvine though a sheet of hair. His eyes were wide, and he was wearing a pair of black boxers and a cowboy hat - Squall would have laughed if his butt didn't hurt so much. 

"No, not really." Said Squall, as lay down in the bath and put his arm over his face. He could feel it already; _this was gonna be one of those day…_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squall followed the same routine every day. He got up at 6:40, got into the bath and turned the showerhead on, got dressed, ate a piece of toast, made sure Irvine had a set of keys, then he left for work. He always walked to work (since he didn't have a drivers license), but he would not have preferred to drive, since he loved the place that he lived in. York was an incredibly old city, older than most cities in England - perhaps even older than London. Squall lived in a flat by the river, on the third and highest level, and stepping out of his front door was like stepping into the past. All the streets were cobbled, and all the houses were still made of wattal and dorb. 

Squall had to cross the river to get to work, which meant walking over his favourite bridge. The stone was a light, crumbly brown, weathered and shaped by the wind and rain. You could still make out the old intricate carvings that covered each side, twisting vines, and gargoyle heads to protect the city. The road had been asphalted here, making the bridge more secure for cars and lorry's - not that Squall cared much. He was more concentrated on walking through the city gates and ducking down an old hidden passageway, taking him on slight detour.

Squall had been making this detour for about a month now, and though it made his trip to work that little bit longer, he believed it was worth it. Along a little alleyway, down an out of the way road - and he was there. It was like walking from a small tunnel into a grand open theatre, and the air assaulted Squalls senses from all angles. The smell of fresh dirt and the grind of heavy machinery was very out of place in the centre of York, but the residence were used to archaeological digs. There was a certain excitement about digging up the past, removing thousands of years of dirt and waste, recovering secret mysteries of the people who came before. Squall's heart fluttered as he walked slowly past the site - but it wasn't because of the dig.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Seifer Almasy was annoyed. He spent most of the day being annoyed with people, yelling at people, telling people off, ordering people around. He was surprised his blood pressure hadn't skyrocketed. At that moment he was frowning down at one of his new people on the team - a snotty little university kid who was out for a bit of 'job experience'. He was a punk, with spiky yellow hair full of enough gel to fill a whole in the ozone layer. He was clumsy, and had nearly tripped over a very important piece of equipment - Seifer was really getting tired of him. 

"Mr. Dincht," he said, looking down his nose at the boy, "I'm only going to say this once, then your off on your arse. If you can't do what your told, and stay out of _my way, _for at least the rest of your life if possible, then there is no point whatsoever for your presence here. Is that understood?". Maybe he'd been a bit too blunt with that statement, but he really was at the end of his rope, so to speak. 

Zell Dincht did not like being talked down too. Although it was generally unavoidable, since he was pretty short. Normally he would make some smart comment to keep himself on top, but the cold look in Seifer's eyes stopped Zell - his gaze was quite intimidating. Zell frowned deeply and decided to do as he was told, for now. 

"Yes sir," He mumbled into his shirt collar.

He'd get his own back, he always did.

Much to Zells surprise, his chance for revenge came up much sooner than he'd expected. Dr. Quistis Trepe was walking over to talk to Seifer as he finished with Zell. She was a lovely woman, with a full mouth and neat honey blond hair - Zell would have probably fancied her if he'd been interested in woman. She was a very intelligent woman, and once of Seifer's oldest friends. Seifer nodded his head to her in way of greeting, then let his gaze sweep over the rest of the site. 

Seifer's face, always serious and etched with a deep frown, changed so suddenly that Zell almost laughed out loud. His harsh green eyes grew impossibly wide and his jaw went slack. A bright pink flush spread across his nose, and he ducked behind a large yellow tent -dragging Quistis with him. 

Quistis gave Seifer a look that made her resemble a ruffled goose, but he took no notice.

"Its _Him_!" Seifer gasped, peeking from behind the tent, then pulling back quickly with a deep gasp of air. Quistis just rolled her eyes. She was used to this - Seifer could be a real pain sometimes, but other times his old ways would surface, and he's so something rather sweet. He looked pretty ridicules, a man of 26 in a pristine lab coat - hiding behind a big yellow tent like an embarrassed school girl. 

"You know," she Quistis, smiling behind a delicate pale hand, "for an arrogant bastard, you can be pretty cute sometimes." She couldn't help laughing as Seifer turned his harsh eyes on her, his face quite a lovely shade of tomato. He hated being teased, especially by Quistis, since she knew most of his really humiliating secrets. But he respect her, and, though he would never admit it, thought of her as his closest friend. 

The same thing had happened everyday since the beginning of the dig in early August, and now it was the beginning of September. Squall had always been fascinated by the past, and he couldn't resist a quick walk past the new site - just to see how things were going. Seifer had just arrived when Squall had come around the corner. He'd been getting out of his large four wheel drive jeep when the wind had suddenly picked up, grasping one of his folders, and sending it spinning down the street. Squall's reflex's were quick, and he's plucked the folder from the air with precise ease. Not really looking were he was going, Seifer had run after his work, stopping dead when a pair of old walking boots had come into view. His eyes had flicked up to the folder being held out to him, and he's placed his hand around it as he mumbled a thanks.

Then their eyes met.

Seifer had once read somewhere that the eyes are the window to the soul, but he had scoffed over it at the time. Now his stomach plummeted like a stone, and a shot of heat ran up his spine. The eyes before him looked strait back at him with equal measure, almost challenging him to be the one to look away first. And Seifer never backed down from a challenge. The eyes were an almost stormy blue, flecked with ice, surrounded by beautiful thick black lashes, and drawn to a smooth point at the corners. Seifers mouth went dry. The eyes belonged to the face of another man, or perhaps a boy, Seifer couldn't tell how old he was - he could have been 15 or 25. His skin was perfect, tinted like a fresh peach. His hair was dark brown, and had been let to grow in wild strands about his face, the longest parts brushing his chin. Seifers gaze was drawn to a pair of full pink lips as a tongue flicked out to wet them, and then he stepped away. Seifer was so surprised he nearly dropped the folder. Squall's face turned bright red, bringing out a birth mark that Seifer hadn't noticed before. A slim slash from his forehead, running diagonally across his nose. Flustered, Squall hurried quickly past Seifer and away down the street - away to dream of tall blond men in land rovers. 

Everyday since, Squall had taken a little detour on his way to work. He didn't often see his mystery man from the jeep, but he always lived in hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zell had never been the brightest pea in the pod, but he wasn't stupid. He knew a tactical advantage when he saw one. Walking quickly, he made his way over to the pretty young man.

"Hey there" 

Squall started. He had been about to carry on his way when a strong had had landed on his shoulder. Not used to being touched, he flinched, pulling away. 

"Hey, sorry mate! Didn't mean to startle you." The guy behind Squall said, raising his hands in apology. Squall stared - the guy couldn't have been much older than himself, if a bit on the short side, with crazy blond hair and a grin like a cat. He seemed friendly enough as he began chatting to Squall, talking about the dig and the work at the lab. Squall was quite interested, though he didn't say much (he never said very much). 

Until, that is, he realized the guy was trying to chat him up. 

Squall really hated being chatted up. He always reacted very badly, depending on the situation. If a girl was chatting him up, and they tended to be quite clingy, he'd always slip in a comment about a girlfriend - though he hated to lie, it usually worked very well. However, if it was a guy - and it didn't happen too often - he tended to panic. 

His palms would sweat and his face would go red, bringing out the nasty birthmark across his face. He'd start to wring his hands, and his heart would begin to beat painfully. It was not a very nice experience. 

Squalls stomach clenched in dread as he felt himself begin to sweat. Zell seemed to notice something was wrong and looked at Squall with a critical eye.

"Are you alright?" He asked, reaching a hand out to Squall's face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seifer crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air. "Look Quistis" He said, not looking at her, "nothing you can say will convince me otherwise. Just because I fancy someone, does not mean I have a duty to talk to them."

But Quistis wasn't listening. She was peaking out from behind the tent, peering through her spectacles at something. 

"Isn't that the assistant from the University?" she asked.

"Huh?" said Seifer intelligently, nearly knocking over Quistis as he tried to see. 

"That's Zell Dincht! The little git!" Seifer exclaimed, almost shaking in anger. "Bastard, bastard, bastard!!"

Quistis giggled. 

"Ooh, he's in trouble."

They both watched as Zell began to chat with the other young man casully. Seifer was livid. He was going to do some really horrible things to Zell when he got the chance... 

Seifer gasped like a fish, and nearly fell over as he watched Zell reach out to touch the boys face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squall jerked back as the hand nearly landed on his cheek, flicking some of his hair away. He gasped in mortification, stepping back as Zell gave him a confused look. Zell began to pull his had away - and it was at this point that Squall noticed the time on Zell's watch. He nearly chocked: In one minute he'd be late for work!

"Ah! I'm-I'm sorry! I have to go! I'm late for w-work!" Squall stumbled over his words as he tried to get his legs to take him away, quickly.

Realizing that he was about to loose a rather dashing date, Zell tried to grab the other young man.

"Wait! Do you wanna go out for a drink some time?" Squall kept pulling away. Zell racked his brain for ways to make him stay. "Erm, I mean, maybe you'd like lunch? or Dinner? or Breakfast!?"

Squall shook his head and carried on hurrying away.

Zell almost growled in frustration. This guy was bloody gorgeous! 

"Well.. at least can I have your name!?"

Squall didn't even stop. "My name's Squall... Squall Lionheart."

And he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quistis whistled "One all to pretty boy."

Seifer laughed in relief, "Zero to Zell the pillock"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued....


	2. The Tyr Cafe Incident

*Slams down water glass* I finished it! Wow, no one told me writing fic's is so hard, this has taken way too long .. Hehe, thank you so much to all my lovely reviewer's, I've left all of you a little note at the bottom =^^=. This is very exiting. 

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Ragnarok

By Kafers

Chapter 2 - The Tyr Café Incident 

Tyr: The one-handed god of the brave, son of Frigg. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squall knew exactly what he was going to write in his diary that night - falling over in the bath is a OMEN.

He ran down the street like a bat out of hell, knocking old lady's and small children over in his wake. The Tyr Cafe loomed in front of him as he pushed forward, its old street sign creaking in the wind. Nearly knocking over the sandwich board out front, Squall made a sharp left turn and headed inside the dark interior. 

The Tyr Cafe had once been a pub called the Headless Goose, but the tourist industry had felt that the name was a tad inappropriate (though, at the time it had been known as the Headless Goose, it had been a thieves and murder's pub, infamous for some of the best ghosts stories around) Unfortunately for Squall, this meant that the doorway leading to the kitchen was rather low - and he managed to bang his head on it at least once a week. 

With a audible thump and a muttered curse, everyone on the staff knew that Squall had arrived. 

Squall had had his job at the Tyr Cafe for over two years now, and he wasn't about to give it up soon. 

He did all manner of work. Sometimes he cooked, well, more like he helped to arrange the food - Gary, the head chief, wouldn't let anyone near his stoves until they showed him their diploma, and then cooked him a slap up meal. 

Sometimes, Squall worked behind the counter, selling things. He didn't do this so often, since the manager felt he'd scared too many costumers away already with his stony looks. 

Mostly, he was a waiter. He didn't talk much anyway, so all he ever said all day was 'can I take your order please', in a complete monotone. 

Squall's real dream, however, had nothing to do with the food industry. One day, he was absolutely certain, he would join the police. And since he was only eighteen, that gave him plenty of time to think about it. 

But, as always, several things had stopped him from achieving his dream as soon as he'd left school. One of them was money. He couldn't afford to live without his job at the Tyr Cafe, let alone have enough money to pay University fee's. He had no family to support him - his mother had died giving birth to him, and his father several years later of Leukaemia. His father's death had crushed Squall, and he'd always believed the doctor's had lied to him - his father had died of a broken heart. He'd been left with next to nothing, since his parents had never been very well off anyway, so the authorities had simply dumped him in a home. He'd had a terrible time at the orphanage, and avoided talking about it.

Another thing stopping him was Irvine. Not that he resented the American, but they had managed to get themselves into quite a tight predicament. Irvine had come to England to attend University for two years, and he was supposed to be staying with a old aunt just outside of York. But, something had obviously gone wrong with family communication, because Irvine had arrived in York penniless, with absolutely no clue to where his aunt lived, and in fact, no clue as to what her name was. Squall had met him as he was leaving work, wondering the streets like all the other homeless people. Normally Squall ignored homeless people (they creeped him out), but something about Irvine made him pause. Maybe it was sixth sense - or maybe it was the fact that Irvine was carrying about five suitcases, wearing a cowboy hat and sitting in a gutter. Anyway, Squall stopped, and in one of his more vocal moments, asked if Irvine was ok. Irvine wasted no time in telling him the whole retched story, and Squall, feeling rather sorry for the American, had offered to get him some dinner.

Something about Irvine made Squall feel comfortable, which was rather odd, since Squall hated most people in general. And of course, once Irvine had let slip how much money his parents would be sending him a month, Squall couldn't help asking if he'd like to be his flat mate. He would have had to give up the flat, which was actually rather nice if you looked over the bathroom, if Irvine hadn't started paying rent as well. So Squall was stuck. If he wanted to join the police he'd have to leave the flat, but there was no way Irvine could afford it by himself - and he was only in England for another eighteen months. So Squall had to wait, and as long as he was receiving a steady income, that was ok by him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cid Karmer loved his Tyr Cafe. As the manager, he worked very hard to make his cafe an outstanding success in Garden inc. branch. This meant not only good food and conditions, but outstanding services as well. 

Incidentally, he must have been having a very bad day to have hired Squall. Yes, a very bad day.

Not that Squall was rude to the customers, Cid could never say that, but he left a lot to be desired. He never made chitchat with the customers, preferring to avoid there gazes all together, or ignore them if they tried to strike up a conversation. He tended to get a lot of unwanted attention from the younger people who came to eat at the cafe (he was rather strikingly pretty), and even some from the elder customers.

Cid had point blank begged Squall to at least say something nice to the regulars, mostly old ladies, so as not to scare them away. He would usually greet them with a gruff 'how are you', but most of the elderly customers put his lack of gusto down to shyness, thinking Squall was positively adorable.

It made Squall want to tip hot tea in there laps.

His co-workers found his antic's an endless source of amusement. 

Rinoa and Selphie had worked at the Tyr Cafe almost as long as Squall, and they thought the world of him. This confused Squall somewhat, considering they had completely different personalities. Both girls were overly cheerful and bursting with energy, whereas Squall was moody and reclusive. He often gave them stony looks, instead of acting sociable, but this only seemed to encourage their friendliness towards him. 

Both girls were fully aware that Squall felt no attraction towards them (not for lack of trying on Rinao's part of course), but Selphie couldn't help giggling at the thought of heartless Squall getting all flustered around other men. Rinao had been disappointed at first, but she was an easy going, forgiving type of girl, and she couldn't help teasing Squall about having a male room mate. And, of course, Squall despised being teased about his sexuality.

Which is why Rinoa would jump and the chance to set him up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most days at the Try Cafe we're very predictable. Squall would start at about 8:00 when things we're just opening up, and by lunch time, the place was heaving. The work was hard, and Squall was run of his feet nearly the whole day - this was not so good for his temperament either, since he didn't loose morning grumpiness until at least six o'clock at night. 

By 1 o'clock, even Rinoa's smile was starting to look a bit strained. 

Sighing, Squall walked over to his next costumer. The man on table nine had his back to Squall, so he couldn't see him moving towards him. However, a mirror, covered in Art Nouveau type designs, had been placed along the wall, (to open the room out a bit, Cid has said), which gave Squall a perfect view of the gentleman's face. 

High cheekbones running smoothly across a light coloured face, a strong, almost roman nose, and blond hair lighter then the sun. Squall would never forget that face. 

With a chocked gasp, he headed strait back to the kitchens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seifer was tired, and his voice was starting to crack from all the shouting he'd been doing. All he wanted was a nice cup of coffee, full of sugar, and a cream cake, also full of sugar. Sugar made him a more acceptable member of the human race. 

His lunch brake lasted for a hour and a half, so he's decide to try somewhere new. All the cafe's and pub's in York seemed to boast some kind of fame or other - there were about three that claimed Guy Fawks had been born within. One old white pub next to a snickleway had looked rather nice, until he noticed the street name. Grape street (and if you know your York history, it used to be called Grapcunt street, and the grap was for grope, not grape) - the thought of eating in a former brothel made Seifer's stomach turn, so he carried on looking. 

The Tyr Cafe had looked very pleasant, away from busy roads and tourist streams, so Seifer had delved inside.

The menu had exactly what he wanted, plus a very nice border covered in pretty clouds. Not that Seifer noticed that kind of thing, certainly not.

It was rather busy when Seifer had sat down, and he was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to get served - when he felt the hair on his neck rise. Seifer's senses were unusually honed for someone for didn't believe in the supernatural, but he looked around anyway.

Not fast enough - because Squall had already ducked behind the counter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Selphie and Rinoa stared. Obviously, some kind of virus must have gotten into the water system - there could be no other explanation as to why Squall was hiding behind the counter. 

Legs tucked tightly against his body, arm's covering his head, Squall looked like he was expecting an air raid. He peaked out from behind his knees, observing the two girls staring at him, as if his head had turned purple with big yellow splodges. 

Selphie blinked.

"Erm, Squall..." She said, scratching her head, "not that we don't appreciate the company; but, what are you doing?"

Squall gave them a level stare.

"Someone needs to sort out table nine" He mumbled into his leg. Both girls glanced over to the table in complete synchronisation - and burst into giggles.

"Oooh! He's really cute" said Selphie, trying to cover her mouth as she tittered. Rinoa lent on her shoulder to have a better look, then glanced back as Squall, watching with amusement as his ears turned red.

Rinoa winked. "I think Squalllll has a cruuuush" She said, in a very sing song way.

Sqaull grumbled something into his uniform.

Both girl's descended into peels of laughter.

Suddenly, Rinoa gripped Selphie's arm and gasped. She jumped up and down in excitement as her friends regarded her with surprise.

"I know who that is!" She squealed, hand fanning the air in front of her. "Oh Squall! He's one of the Doctor's working down at that dig your always talking about! I used to go out with him a while back; that is," she paused to wink again at Squall, "until I found out that he was flaming!" she snorted with laughter as Squalls face took on a pained look.

Selphie shoved Rinoa out from behind the counter. "Well, if you know him, for gods sake Rinoa! Go and serve the poor man before you embarrass Squall any more!" Selphie laughed again as Rinoa waved them goodbye.

Felling rather put out, Squall let his head flop into his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rinoa swayed her hips in her little mini skirt uniform, heading over to Seifer's table. Seifer had obviously sensed her coming over, because he turned slightly - then nearly fell out of his chair. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been an ex-girlfriend.

Rinao faked surprise and squealed with glee. "Seifer-sweety! I haven't seen you in ages!"

Seifer cringed. He felt his stomach sink unpleasantly as Rinao's smiling face looked down at him.

"Hello Rinoa," he deadpanned, looking at his menu to avoid her gaze. "I believe the last time we talked was nearly a year ago.. when you broke up with me." 

__

No, thought Seifer, _that didn't sound bitter at all_...

Rinoa ignored his tone. "Well, It's so nice to see you again," she giggled absurdly, and Seifer tried to sink deep into his chair. Leaning closer, Rinao continued, "especially since I've got some good news for you"

She jumped into the seat opposite Seifer, wanting to get closer to talk to him - Seifer just wanted the ground to swallow him whole. Or better yet, swallow _her_ whole.

She propped her elbows on the table, leaning on her hands so only Seifer could hear her. "Well, tell me how you've been! I don't often get that chance to reminisce"

__

No wonder, Seifer smiled mentally, _no one stick's around after your through with them._

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Seifer answered, "I'm as well as can be expected. But I won't bore you with the details of my current life.." he looked glanced meaningfully at his menu, hoping Rinoa would get the hint.

Apparently not.

"I know for a fact that you've been single for quite a while, boy-o" Seifer was about to protest, but she shushed him "Don't try and deny it! Quistis told me."

__

Qustis is very dead, Seifer though, not even disguising his glare at Rinoa. She didn't seem disturbed by it, in fact, her face was starting to look rather concerned.

"She worries about you Seifer," Rinoa's big baby doll eyes looked at Seifer pityingly, "she only wants you to be happy."

Seifer experienced a flash of foresight, suddenly seeing were this conversation was headed. He almost growled in annoyance. "Look Rinoa-" He started.

She cut him up quickly. "But, as always, I have the perfect solution!" she raised her finger as if she'd just had the best idea in the world. 

Looking at Seifer with a wide smile (one that made Seifer want to back away) she concluded;

"I have a friend - a male friend!" She added quickly, seeing the look of distaste on Seifer's face. "He's a bit anti-social, and his conversation skills aren't quite up to scratch, but he's a really gorgeous guy, and," she wagged a finger in his face, "he really fancies you."

Sitting back, she lanced her fingers together and grinned at Seifer. "So, what do you think?"

Seifer sighed. His head was starting to hurt, and all he really wanted was a nice cup of coffee. 

"Look Rinoa, as much as I appreciate your concern, I'm not interested. I'm a busy man at the moment, what with the dig and all, and I don't really have time for this kind of thing. I don't like being set up, and frankly, I don't care if your friend is male, female, or a duck - I won't be pushed into a blind date." He looked her strait in the eye as he handed her his menu. "As nice as this little chat was, all I really want is a nice, milky coffee, two sugars; and a piece of carrot cake. Is that too much to ask?"

Rinoa pursued her lips together as she regarded Seifer. 

"I'd forgotten what you can be like sometimes, Seifer," she said slowly, sobering out of her cheerful facade. "If your going to be dick, and not except an exiting opportunity, then that's fine by me. But whatever you do, don't let Quistis know how lonely you really are." Standing, she left Seifer looking bemused.

As she walked away, determined to have the last word, Seifer stated, "I don't need your help to find me love, Rinoa.." _because my heart's already been stolen_, he added to himself.

Rinoa laughed. "Whatever you say, Seifer-sweety". Normal cheerfulness returned, Rinoa walked back to the kitchens, leaving Seifer to mull over his words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sticking Seifer's order on a large metal stake, Rinoa looked down at Squall. Selphie had just retuned from waiting on table three, and she jumped around the counter expectantly. Grabbing Rinao's arm, she demanded to know what had been said.

Rinoa looked at her nail's as if they were the most fascinating things in the world, answering slowly to wind Selphie up. 

"Well.." She said, as if she couldn't quite remember, "we said hi, and we talked about stuff.."

"What stuff!?" said Selphie, getting overexcited again.

"humm, well, I asked Seifer, if he would be at all interested, you know, in having a speacial date with someone" she looked meaningfully at Squall.

Squall felt his stomach drop as all feeling left his body.

"You didn't!?" He ask, snapping his head up and looking at Rinoa with wide, horrified eyes.

She shrugged. "Sorry Squall, he isn't interested. Not that I didn't try my best, but take my advice, Seifer isn't a very nice person, especially for someone like you, and you deserve a lot more than that" she jabbed a thumb in Seifer's direction.

Selphie wined in disappointment. "Oo~oh, and he was so cute too.."

Squalls head was spinning. _His name's Seifer.._ was all he could think as Rinoa's words sank in. 

The girl had carried on talking as she put a slice of cake on a tray. "Trust me Squall, there are so many nice gay men out there for you, all we have to do-"

"Rinoa" Squall cut her short, staring up at her with his cold eyes, "please don't _ever_ try and set me up again."

Rinoa huffed as Squall dropped his head down again. "Well, if that's all the thanks I get.." She stormed off, taking her cake with her.

Selphie just shook her head. "Don't worry Squall," She smiled at him, "I'm sure it'll all work out in the end."

Squall nodded listlessly.

Seifer.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I've been ill with the flu, and I'm supposed to be revising for my mock exam's... @_@. Anyways, for the fan's:

I love each and every person who reads my story, and I'd like to put a special message to all the lovely people who decided to review ^__^.

Redrum: Congrat's on being the first reviewer, and so soon after I posted ^^. It really warmed my heart. I'm glade you think Seifer was cute, I was trying to make it funny without being too OOC @_@.

Rikkali: I'm glade you likies ^^. Yep, Squall's to good looking for his own good, how can you expect all these poor men not to notice ^_~ Please everyone, keep trying to guess the pairing, it amuses me to no end ^^

Tongari: You think I'm original =^^=, that's the nicest thing anyone could say. I hope it makes the story that little bit more enjoyable ^^

Rioku: Teehee, pairing's are a mystery :p

Scribblemoose: I'm so jealous, I'd love to live in York . (hence why I am writing about it) I'm so happy you think I've avoided OOC-ness, its actually quite hard for someone who doesn't write fic's too often @_@. Hehe, I've taken a bit of artistic licence in these later chapters, with the naming of cafe's and stuff (It has been a whole year since I went there ^^;;;), but I'm sticking to a 'theme'. See if you can't guess what it is ^_~.

Pink Cherry Blossom: Funny you should mention Rinoa and Selphie ^_~. Hehe, I'm glade this story is so likable (maybe even funny @_@), and I'm making sure all the blond guys get lots of action *^^*. Irvine's purpose with become clear later... mwhahaha, I love having secrets.

Well, thanks again to all you non lazy people =^^=, you've made this story worth writing. The next chapter will be called 'Dear dear diary', and Squall will help himself to a packet of McVitie's ^^. Hope your all looking forward...

Luv Kafers


	3. Interval no1

I've been so annoyed with my attempts at chapter three, so I wrote this .. It takes the piss, seriously. It seems my ability to write well has been short lived..... oh well, maybe if I'm a good girl, it'll come back....

Luv Kafers

Ragnarok

By Kafers

Valhalla: (Hall-of-the-slain), Odin's hall in Asgard where all who die in battle gather - Snorri Sturluson's Edda

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"I..... I can't move..."

"Shh, I-It'll be okay"

"I can't feel............. Am I dying?"

"No... No please, you can't die! I won't let you!"

"I......."

"Please! Please, keep your eyes open!"

"I...... Why is there blood.....?"

"Oh God"

"It's so red....... I think..... I feel dizzy...."

"Keep your eyes open!!"

"Can't.......... I need...... sleep..."

"Please! NO!!"

"I........ I love you...... Sei...."

"Ah! NO! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!"

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RAGNAROK IS COME - THE HALL OF THE SLAIN AWAITS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This rather serious addition to our story is interrupted by - *AN AMUSING INTERLUDE*

*Kafers jumps out of her dust bin, complete with microphone and a snazzy outfit (use your imagination)*

Kafers: Hello follocks! And welcome to the halls of Valhalla! Today we will be discussing some very important issues - not excluding what-colour-are-Squalls-underpants, the true meaning of Zell's tattoo, and why Irvine has never had a steady girlfriend-

Irvine: Hey! I've had many steady girlfriends!

Squall: Whatever....

Kafers: *Ahem*, Anyways, alas alack, we have no time to talk about **random visions, **unusual and cruel **plot twists, ** strange **romantic outcomes**, and Kafers inability to write anything decent at the moment...

Zell: At all.

Kafers: What?

Zell: You mean, you inability to write anything decent** at all.**

Kafers: Oi! That was rude. No sex scene for Zell *gets out big black marker pen and crosses out writing* .

Zell: Bollocks!

Seifer: Just goes to show, this is what happens when you open your useless trap..

Zell: Hey, at least I can _make the moves_!

Kafers: Ooh, low blow...

Seifers: Yeah, well... at least... at least I'm not a complete tosser!

Zell: I'm sorry, did you just insult me? I could have sworn I heard a fart on the wind...

Seifer: *goes very very red* I'm gonna ring your stupid little neck...

Squall: *puts on Smart Glasses* Now now, don't be to harsh on Zell - he suffers from a common male aliment. I like to call it; TWS.

Seifer: TWS?

Squall: Tosser-wanker-syndrome.

Seifer: Ah, makes sense...

Zell: !?

Kafers: *laughs evilly*

Squall: I believe Irvine also suffers some-what from this aliment...

Irvine: What!? Why'd you have to drag me down as well!?!

Squall: *takes of Smart Glasses* Well, its true.

Irvine: *falls over*

Seifer: What a bunch of planks. 

*Seifer is suddenly struck by an idea. Said idea gives Seifer a nose bleed. And we all know what that means....^_~*

Seifer: *trying to cover river of blood* Hey Squall....

Squall: Yes...?

Seifer: Would you, erm... like to make mad passionate love to me, followed by many angst ridden adventures, complete with action, torment, comfort, more passionate love making, before stealing a tourist boat and eloping to France for ever more, so we can live happily ever after and annoy the locals with our wild late night lovin'?

Squall: Erm... Okay then.

Seifer: *grin* Great! Lets go!

Kafers: *closes curtains* Well, that's all we have time for I'm afraid..............*stony silence*.........................Look, I can't write sex people, since this fic is an R, and NC-17 is banned. *pleading looks from audience (consisting of two people and a packet of popcorn)* ............. Fine, have it your way. I'll write a kinky scene........... in the next 101 chapters! Mwhahaha.........

*ahem* You are the weakest link, so eff off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Told you this take the piss. My apologies to anyone who went mad due to my randomness....

Hehe, anyways, thank you so much for the review's people! I never thought anyone would actually read my story... =^^=

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TinyTaz: Hehe, but I could change the plot at any moment...mwhahaha. **Faery of fun: **wow, thanks =^^=. I I keep thinking that I'm not getting anything right - but if people like that, then that's ok ^^. **Ragdoll: **He would have pinned him to the table and ... well, I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ^_~. **Deadxdreamer:** I love long reviews! Hehe, thanks, I'm over my illness now (though it gives me less excuse to sit at home and write... darn), thanks so much for taking the time to be constructive ^^. I have very little esteem when it comes to writing... by I'm so happy that you read my fic randomly ^^, that's the only way to do it ^_~. **Miriya: **Hello! It's all true, I can't write - my muse wrote this for me! hehe, sorry I didn't get the MacVities into this chapter... so we'll have to wait and see :p. **Darksquall: **Yay, I'm British ^^. Don't worry about spelling, I am acclaimed to be the worst speller in the world! I'm so bad, about 5 people have offered to beta my stories - my spelling is truly cringe worthy ^^;;;. (and here I am, spending more time on fic's, rather than exam's...). Hehe, I'm so ecstatic, people really like my writing ^^. **Race Ulfson NSI: **Ah, the dream... I do love my plot twists ^^. Hehe, I'm happy you like, since all I can write is "normal" stuff ^^;;. **Pink Cherry Blossom:** I couldn't help myself - Squall just really strike's me as someone who'd hate to be hit on (look at his dad for goodness sake!), so he'd get all cute and nervous =^^=. 

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Coming to a Cinema near you: The Return of the Flirter - Zell goes for it again. Good Irvine Hunting - will he ever go steady!? And of course, Seifer & Squall - two star crossed lovers, but will their story be a tragedy or not?

So, sit back, buy some popcorn, and crew until something happens.....

Luv Kafers


	4. Dear Dear Diary or, The Real Chapter 3!

I'm sorry this took so long!! . Bad Kafers! I've been so busy with my exam's *cough* *cough* and other things, I haven't even had time to think of my poor fic ::hugs::. But good news: I now how this is going to end, yay! I've planned each chapter from here on (hopefully they all won't be as boring as I found this one .;;), and man, is it going to get interesting or what! Mwhahaha.... Ahem, and if we didn't need any more confusion about the pairing, here's (real) Chapter 3:

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Ragnarok

By Kafers

Frigg: foremost of the goddesses, wife of Odin, mother of Baldur - Snorri Sturluson's Edda

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When Squall walked home that night, he was more miserable than he'd been in a long time. His gut grumbled with hunger and other anxieties, least of all a deep feeling of failure and depression. 

The good things in his life seemed to fade into the background as he contemplated his worthlessness, hive total lack of confidence. He would never get what he wanted.

These thoughts clogged his mind as he passed a group of ducks in the park, ignoring them as they waddled towards the river. Since it was September, the dark hours came early, and the street lights where already on. The moon was out, half-cast, but the light of the stars was blocked by the artificial lights of the city, out for the night at some local bar. The noise of drunken partiers and clubbers followed Squall all the way home, but he was used to that.

Down by the river was slightly quieter, the image of the moon waning and waxing in the quicksilver surface of the water. Squall stood for a moment to observe a family of swans swim straight through the image of the moon, splitting it into a million pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Irvine first got the feeling that something was wrong when Squall entered the house without shouting a greeting. His morose appearance and hunched back made Irvine sit up and take notice, as a dark cloud seemed to follow Squall into the sitting room.

Irvine's second clue was when - instead of sitting down on the sofa to watch a bit of TV with his flatmate - Squall made for the kitchen. Since it was Irvine's turn to make dinner, this didn't really make a lot of sense, and Squall never ate until the proper mealtime. He wasn't really a snacker, like Irvine, and was quite slim because of it. 

However, Squall had never been happy with the way he looked. He body was all sharp edges and harsh lines, his face angular to a point. A lot of people described his features as pretty - Squall saw them as weak. When he looked in the mirror, he didn't see any reason why Seifer should like him. His muscles weren't anything to brag about, his face was marked with a horrid red birthmark, and his lips were always bleeding because he bit them so often. He'd had many problems with his self image through his life - he had been both anorexic and bulimic, but those days where long over, and he always carefully monitored the amount he ate everyday. And Irvine, out of a brotherly consideration, always watched to make sure Squall was ok.

Today he definitely wasn't ok.

Irvine's third and final clue was when Squall, head bent and face shadowed, came out of the kitchen clutching a whole packet of MacVities chocolate digestive biscuits, went into his room, and slammed the door behind him.

Irvine hesitated only a moment before getting up slowly to follow him.

No lights in the flat were turned on, so the corridor leading to Squall's room was quite dark, apart from the pale blue glow of the TV. Laughter could be heard coming from a program Irvine had been watching, but he ignored all that as he placed his head next to Squall's bedroom door.

He rapped once, "Squall? Hey, Squall, are you in there?" he spoke softly, suddenly realizing how dumb he sounded. Of course Squall was in his room, he'd seen him walk in!

Ignoring the fact that he was a complete retard, Irvine tried not to break the moment and twisted the knob very slowly, easing the door open a crack. 

Squall was sitting on his bed, the only light in his room from a mismatched lamp on his bedside table, one he'd gotten at a car boot sale. The harsh light from the lamp cast half of his face in a dramatic shadow, making his body almost disappear into the darkness. In the time it had taken Irvine to come find Squall, he had already changed out of his uniform and into an old pair of jeans and jumper. The jumper was a dirty orange, totally swamping Squall's small frame, bits of thread sticking out at odd angles, as if the jumper had seen better days. A book, which Irvine supposed was Squall's diary, was balanced in his lap, a chocolate biscuit poised as if he had been in the act of lifting it to take a bite. 

Squall managed a half hearted angry glare as Irvine's head poked around his door frame, splitting the floor with a line of blue light from the hall. 

Squall gave Irvine look. "Go away" he said shortly.

Irvine was not so easily deterred. He was used to Squall acting like a complete anti-social git, because that's just the way he was. He'd always taken Squall's abruptness for granted, never really wondering why he was like that. Sure, he knew about the orphanage, but the details of that were sketchy and patched, and Squall never really talked about what it had been like there. Irvine had never seen Squall cry.

Hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia, Irvine ducked his head and pushed the door open, ignoring Squall's face as his frown deepened. Walking as casually as his long legs would allow, Irvine crossed the room and bounced onto the bed next to Squall.

Squall squawked. "Irvine! Do you mind!" he grabbed a handful of duvet cover as he glared at his flatmate.

Irvine just grinned, "Not at all buddy," he shuffled to make himself more comfortable. "So, what is it? Bad day at work? I keep telling you man, that job sucks, you should go-" 

"Irvine! Just leave it, ok." Squall fumed, "can't you see I'm not in the mood?"

"Hey, hey" Irvine lifted his hands in a kind of peace offering gesture, "touchy, touchy. I was only wonderin', Mr. Doom-and-Gloom." he lowered his hands and regarded Squall more seriously, "what's up with you today? You seem all, I don't know, miserable and junk. Can't you just tell me what's wrong?" 

Squall snorted and looked away, "never let it be said you have tact, Irvine..."

"Oi! Don't get off the subject. What's wrong?"

".......Nothing"

"Like hell!" Irvine's hands flew up in expiration, "I know you Squall," he said, pointing an accusing finger at his friend, "and I know what you're like. Don't avoid the subject, 'cause you know I won't give up - so why don't you just tell me what's wrong, and, surprise, surprise, I may even be able to help you." he regarded Squall with eyes that suggested he would force the truth out of him anyway if he didn't comply.

Squall simply raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he looked away again. "Look, it isn't anything important, or anything you could help me with, so, just go away please"

"Arg!" Irvine exclaimed, clutching his head, and Squall had to hide the little smile that quirked his lips. 

Irvine was about to have another go at Squall when a pillow hit him square in the face.

"Murph!" said the pillow as Irvine stumbled backwards. Squall's little smile become a grin as Irvine shook himself like a ruffled goose, face changing from anger to the promise of a challenge in mere seconds. "Alright, you ask for it you, great big poofe-"

Irvine was cut short as another pillow hit his face. Squall was in peals of laughter at the look of indignation of Irvine's face.

"Nice to know my complete humiliation cheers you up so, YOU SCOUNDREL!" he yelled, pouncing on Squall and bashing him with both pillows at once.

"Stop! Irvine! No fair!" Squall yelled between chokes of laughter and gasps of breath. Kicking Irvine in the stomach - "oof! Foul!" - Squall sprang away, grabbing a third pillow from off of the bed. Now standing triumphantly over Irvine, Squall let him have it. 

In a flurry of feathers, all three pillows were destroyed as both men tried to desecrate each other. Squall's and Irvine's laughter filled the room, and they both collapsed in a heap of limbs and torn fabric in the middle of the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was about five minutes later Irvine sat up, and blinked his eyes back into focus. Squall stretched like a cat, popping his shoulder with a very satisfactory crunch, then glanced at the clock. It was 6:48.

"Hey Squall?" Irvine had turned around and was facing his flatmate, a mischievous quirk on his lips.

"Huh? Wha?" said Squall intelligently, inhaling deeply and blinking as he regarded Irvine. 

"Come on," Irvine's face split into a grin as he jumped up from the bed and grabbed Squall's sleeve "I know exactly what you need. Follow moi!"

"Oh god, what now? I thought you were supposed to leave me alone..." Squall protested feebly as he was lead from the bed towards the dark hall. He tried to shake Irvine off, but his resolve was weakened, and he let himself be dragged across the room, feeling all the more like someone had dumped a stone in his stomach.

"You wait Squall, I'll have you pepped up and ready in no time. Just you and me, we're gonna have a great time-" Squall opened his mouth to speak as they entered Irvine's room, but he was cut off as Irvine flicked the light on "-There's gonna be the best gig ever down at The Odin, (you know the one, right?), with Chris and his band, best in York if you ask me, and I'm sure I can introduce you to some of the ladies..."

Irvine still like to pretend that Squall was not totally averse to female's - the words "I would rather be a toad, then go out with a woman" seemed to sail right over his head as he tried to maintain a blissful ignorance. Squall was sure Irvine would have no other reason for living if he couldn't womanize, and to him, turning down a good woman was practically blasphemous. So he kept his mouth shut as Irvine ranted on.

"...and then we can get some drinks, maybe some dinner too-"

Realization suddenly dawned on Squall.

"No way"

"What? What are you talking about, I promised Chris-"

"You heard me. No way!" Squall wrenched his arm out of Irvine's grip and gave his friend a frustrated look. Irvine knew how much he hated clubbing!

Vexed, Irvine pouted childishly, "But Squaaaal! It's a Friday night! And you never go out to bars with me; I'm only trying to cheer you up man!"

Squall fumed _'Cheer me up?!'_ he wanted to say _'By taking me to some cigarette smoke filled, hole in the wall? Not bloody likely!', _but instead he said "Look, I'm really tired, I've had a long day-" he chose that moment to yawn rather loudly, punctuating his point.

Irvine considered his options "It's mostly a gay bar, you know"

Squall laughed "Sorry, not interested" he stopped thoughtfully and rounded on Irvine, "wait, what would you do at a gay bar?"

Irvine shrugged no committingly, not meeting Squall's eyes. "What can I say? The gigs are excellent."

"Whatever," said Squall, shaking his head.

"Well, if I can't tempt you..." Irvine's face suddenly split into a grin that made Squall very suspicious, for good reason too. "...I guess I'll just keep this!"

Reaching into the pocket of his Tommy Hilfiger fleece, Irvine pulled out a small black notebook, and waved it in front of Squall.

Squall gasped and tried to make a grab for the offending object. "You you- arg! How did you get my diary!?" he spluttered.

Irvine laughed rather evilly as he pulled the book out of reach "Lets just say I'm an excellent slight of hand. Now" he held a finger in front of Squall to stop him from grabbing the book "I knew you'd never agree to come out with of your own free will, you anti-social prick, so I'll make a deal with you."

"No deal!" yelled Squall as he knocked Irvine's hand away and made another grab for his diary. But Irvine was quicker with his hands (bar fights anyone?), and he snapped back with a quick flick of his wrist. Like a shot, he took off to the far corner of the little room, Squall close behind.

Irvine opened the little black book as he dodged around his desk chair "Ooh, look at this - September 14th, I walked past the site today, blah blah blah, Irvine rules and I wish he was my bitch, tut tut Squall, aren't we a naughty boy!"

"IRVINE KINNEAS! Give that back NOW, or I'll fucking kill you!" Squall only ever swore when he was really, really pissed off. Now he was really, _really_ pissed off.

Irvine laughed manically and jumped onto his bed, flipping over a page "Ah, today's entry! September 17th, I'm gonna kill Rinoa, no, actually I'm secretly in love with her, and I really want Irvine to take me to this gig because he's so hot-"

With an animalistic snarl, Squall dived at Irvine and took out his legs from under him. They both went flying, landing with a hard bang on the bedroom floor. Ignoring the pain in his right hip (not more injury to his poor abused body!), Squall recovered quickly and tried to pull the book from Irvine's death grip. They wrestled the black notebook between them, neither giving an inch or giving in. These kinds of fights where pretty common in their flat anyway.

"Give-it-back!" growled Squall, punctuating every word with a tug.

"No!"

"Don't make me break your nose!"

"As if you could, pansy boy!"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, chill goddamnit! You'll rip the paper!"

"Get off then!"

"Only if you agree to come with me!!"

"Gaghrrrrrr!" Squall yelled, pulling with all his might. Instead of letting go, Irvine jerked back, making Squall loose his grip. The momentum of his pull made Squall topple backwards, practically rolling over his head, and landing in a heap on the floor. 

Irvine stood up quickly, holding the book well away from Squall. He sat on the floor, glaring so furiously at Irvine, he was surprised he didn't burst into flames.

"Right," said Irvine, gathering himself together whilst trying to catch his breath. "Just chill a sec, okay?"

Taking in an angry breath, Squall stood, and held out his hand.

"Give it back," he said simply.

Irvine raised his eyebrows, "so you agree to come with me then?"

Squall opened his mouth, then closed it again. Carefully, he said: "and if I do, will you _swear, _on your life, never to ask me to go out with you _ever _again?"

Irvine was tempted to say _'mother told me never to swear', _but he held his tongue. Best not push his luck.

He held out his hand, "shake?" Squall took his hand and shook it loosely, then reached behind Irvine and plucked the diary from his fingers. Turning, he walked out of the room and down the hall, holding his door open as he threw the book onto his bed - resisting the urge to clean up the mess - then grabbed his coat and walked back.

"Well," he said before he could change his mind, "let's go then."

Irvine just took one look at him and burst out laughing.

"What?" said Squall, annoyed again.

"Give me a break!" Irvine tried to control his laughter and failed, "It doesn't start until 8! And you can't go like that!" 

Squall looked down at his torn jeans, horrible jumper and tatty leather jacket. "What's wrong with me?" he asked, confused.

Irvine wiped a tear away from his eye, "My dear Squall," he smirked, "we need to get you ready...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squall stood in the middle of Irvine's room, looking at his flatmate as if he's sprouted horns and a tail. Irvine was holding up a very small, black t-shirt that looked like it would fit a 10 year old girl.

"That wouldn't even go over my head!" Squall exclaimed, holding up his arms to try and protect his upper body.

Irvine just rolled his eyes. "Look, I said you could keep the jeans, but please, that jumper is hideous!"

Squall pouted, "I like my jumper..."

Irvine slapped his forehead in a very comical way, before stepping forward to accost his flatmate. Remembering of course that Irvine has a lot of experience with removing clothing, what happened next shouldn't come as much of a surprise:

Before Squall could even get out a muffled yell, Irvine had wiped off his jumper, thrown it across the room, and popped the skinny fit t over his head.

It fit. Perfectly.

Almost too perfectly in Squall's opinion - the fabric was slightly elasticized, so it stretched over every plane in his chest, accenting his slim waist and slightly pronounced muscles. It was a bit short though, not quite covering his flat midriff. Squall resisted the urge to squeal, _'but everyone can see my bellybutton!'._

Instead he said, "I'm not wearing it."

Irvine waved away his complaints with a flurry of his hand, "phew! It looks fine. But, on the other hand, it does seem to be missing something..."

Irvine turned away from Squall and began to rummage around his room, opening and closing draws as he searched. Feeling like he'd been seriously douped, all Squall could do was stand and slouch.

"Ah ha!" exclaimed Irvine, holding up a pair of scissors and some safety pins.

Squall blanched. "Erm, what are those for..?"

"You'll see," said Irvine, opening the scissors with the sound of metal sliding against metal. "Just hold real still, or you'll get cut..."

Grabbing a handful of Squall's t-shirt, Irvine made a long cut across the chest. Squall made a dry sort of panicked sound as Irvine continued to make cuts in the fabric, until it was slashed to reveal just the right amount of flesh. Next, Irvine took up some of the safety pins and placed them at random on some of the slashes, holding the cloth back together.

He stood back triumphantly and gave Squall a thumbs up. "Who needs Punkyfish when you've got Irvine Kinneas!"

Squall didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything; he was still in shock. Taking this as a good sign, Irvine picked up his cowboy hat and placed it on his head. He liked to call it his 'Lady Killer' hat. He'd also taken off his Tommy Hilfiger fleece, revealing a nice, white, long sleeved t-shirt, accompanied by a new pair of pale, flared jeans. His hair was out, unlike his usual ponytail, brushed into shining caramel waves. 

Smiling at Squall's shell shocked appearance, Irvine said mischievously, "There's just one more thing you need..."

Squall's eyes widened in horror at the thought of anything _more_. Irvine's smirk said it all as he held out a little, black pencil.

It said "**FRIGG EYELINER**" along its side.

Squall took one look at it, then bolted out the door.

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Thanks very much to everyone who reads this and review's ^^. And especially:

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Ella-chan and **Taz**, 'cause I love 'em,

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Radrum: Sorry to dissapoint ^^;;;, but here's a real chapter for you! And the dream thingi's will all become clear some day.....

Pink Cherry Blossom: Down with braces! Eat all the popcorn you like, especially if it means you read my story ^^

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Kolinshar Jackie-chan Benito: Hehe, thanks *^^*. I'm sorry not much happens in this chapter, but fear not, chapter 4 is worth more waiting, and it's well under way!

Pst: The "I would rather be a toad, then go out with a woman" is for anyone who's had to study Othello for English - all I can say is this: Goats and Monkey's!!

Well, that's all for now. As they say on those annoying TV series: To be continued....SpOrK


	5. Down at the local pub

A new chapter! Can you believe it!? I should be writing faster, since it's the holidays and all .. But I have been a bad girl (I should have my wrists slapped), not only is this chapter un-beated (bad bad bad kafers, so impatient) , but I wrote the whole of chapter 5 before this one ^^;;;. If anyone would like to beta this chapter for me, I'll let them read chapter 5 before anyone else :D.

Anyways, even better for the rest of you, I've finally made a site for all my fic's to go on! Just add /paperback-trash to the end of my website URL and you can read a spoiler for chapter 5 there ;). And look at some pretty pretty pictures of Squall I drew XD. Well, enough of my ramblings, on to the story!

Luv Kafers

**Ragnarok**

**By Kafers**

Chapter 4 - Down at the local pub...

Odin: All-father, Valfather. The oldest and most important of the gods. - Snorri Sturluson's Edda

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Squall resisted the urge to scratch his eyes as he followed Irvine into the club, but they itched so much! Irvine would kill him if he managed to rub off his eye liner, and he's rather scratch his own eyes out than suffer Irvine's patented Nipple Crippler of Doom. Again.

It was quite chilly when they'd got outside, so Squall had slipped his favourite bomber jacket on, thanking the gods for giving him an excuse to walk around with a bit more covering. His face heated up with embarrassment just thinking about ravelling his top (tatters of fabric), to anyone. He hoped Irvine got very drunk and slept in the gutter all night, because he was certainly not going to let him back in the flat after this. But there was no going back now, since Squall never backed down from _anything_.

The club was actually another old inn, painted black with a rather tacky (in Squalls opinion) purple neon sign above it, reading: Odin. The blackness of the walls on the outside and the inside made the club seem to merge with the night, its shape fading away like a ghost. Squall shivered. He seriously wondered how he got himself into these situations - he never broke mirror's, always threw salt over his shoulder, never killed money spiders..... he sighed. 

Oh course, what Squall didn't know was that it was a special day. A day that corresponded to times past, of things that came before, of dark omens and lost powers.

But we'll worry about that later.

Right now Squall was eyeing up a hefty looking bouncer, a big Irish guy called Matt, who was giving the crowd a rather distasteful look. Irvine walked past him with a slight tip of his hat, and Matt nodded his head in way of greeting, ignoring Squall as he walked into the club. Squall drew a breath of relief - bouncers we're much scarier in real life than they were in films.

Squall chocked as Irvine led him through a throng of sweaty bodies to the bar, the loud grating music assaulting Squall's ears. He realized why Irvine liked this place - the band was playing Ska, bouncing around on a small wooden stage that looked like it was about to crack under the pressure.

The air was just as smoky and suffocating as Squall had predicted, and his eyes began to water as he sat down on a stool as far from the loud speakers as possible. Irvine shook his head in annoyance, watching Squall as he tried to hide his face in his fluffy coat collar.

"You're going to boil to death in that!" Irvine yelled into Squall's ear, trying to be heard over the loud music. "Take it off! Join the party! Meet some people for a change!!"

"I'm fine!!" Squall shouted. He was actually sweating like a pig, but he wasn't about to tell Irvine that. 

"Suit yourself!!!" Irvine shrugged, and then walked around so he was standing behind Squall.

Without warning, Irvine grabbed the back of Squall's beloved jacket and yanked down, hard. Gasping in surprise, Squall failed his arms, trying to fight Irvine off.

"Irvine! What the f~ PISS OFF!!"

Squall's protests fell on deaf ears and Irvine continued to wrestle with his friend. The American had always taken the physical means of solving life's problems, since he didn't believe in tactfulness or underhandedness - the direct approach was always the way. In Squall's case, the direct approach was not short of throwing him at some nice young man in the mosh pit and letting them get on with it.

Squall was having none of that. He was starting to get really ticked off with Irvine's behaviour, dragging him half-way across the city to some sordid, rat filled, hole in the wall. 

Just as he was about to give Irvine a proper piece of his mind, the jacket came off. Whooping with triumph and getting more than just a few odd looks, Irvine was outta there. Waving the jacket like a flag, Irvine ran strait into a mass of people milling around in front of the stage. Squall had just enough time to see him disappear somewhere between the band and the balcony. 

Growling in anguish, Squall put his head in his hands. He was not the sort of person to shout through a crowd - the one thing he hated most of all was drawing attention to himself - so he could either go and find Irvine, or stay where he was.

He stayed where he was.

It didn't take long before Squall got severely board. Half an hour of listening to Irvine's favourite band (who where pretty terrible in Squall's humble opinion), and having his face buried in his sweaty palms was not fun. He probably looked like he'd drunk to much or something. Actually, come to think of it, looking like he'd passed out didn't seem like such a bad idea at all. People always left drunks alone, and since Squall really wanted to be left alone, all he had to do was 'pass out'. 

Slumping rather unceremoniously on the bar, Squall folded his arms around his head and waited for this terrible night to come to an end. 

So far, this plan seemed to work quite well. On the basis of "I can't see you, so you can't see me", Squall kept his head in his hands, sincerely wishing that he had some kind of magical powers that could transport him from here, into a nice warm bath. 

After a long days work, that's exactly what he needed. He'd fill the bath right to the brim with scolding hot water (in his head, the bathroom was spider free and immaculately clean, the ugly aqua tiles transformed into shining white), then he'd draw a few swirling patterns in the mirror as it fogged up. Then he'd add a mixture of bubble bath and bath salts to the water, the sweet aroma swirling into his pores, relaxing his poor tired muscles.

He was just about to get to the part where he lit a few candles, when he felt an unwelcome presence at his side. Someone had sat down next to him.

Slowly, he lifted his head up from the bar table, squinting as the harsh lighting stung his eyes. It seemed that the band had finished their set and where packing up for the night, so the barman had started playing the latest Karrange CD, blearing it out of the speakers so conversation was just about possible. The person sitting next to Squall seemed to want to take advantage of this fact, smiling down at him from above.

He was an Asian man, probably just a bit older than Squall, with long strands of thick black hair trailing down his back. His eyes where shiny and black, and he smiled with his mouth closed. Squall realized why this was when he spoke - his teeth were horrible and crooked. 

"Hi," he said, still smiling with his mouth closed.

"Hi," Squall said tonelessly. He was not really in the mood for company at the moment.

The new man had other ideas. "My names Nida. I don't think I've ever seen you around here before...?"

"Squall" Use the least amount of words as possible, that was the trick.

"Squall? Wow, that's such an intense name. I bet your parents were hippy's just like mine" He laughed, showing Squall more of his mouth than he'd ever wanted to see.

"Yeah" said Squall, deciding it was best not to mention both his parents were dead. No-matter how brilliant a conversation stopper that was. 

"Hey, you look parched Squall. Maybe I can buy you a drink?" Nida gestured towards the barman.

"I'd rather you bought yourself a rubbish bin and shoved it over your head" was what Squall wanted to say, but it came out more like "Err, um, there's no need..."

Nida placed a sweaty hand on Squall's shoulder, "nonsense. Ah, Mr. Barman, could you get my friend here a Smirnoff Black Ice."

Nida didn't seem to notice the disgusted look on Squall's face as he ran a sticky hand down his arm. Or the expression that clearly read 'I'd rather be drinking piss water' as he was handed his drink.

Cursing Irvine with every atom of his body, Squall took the tinniest possible swig of his drink, with Nida watching on expectantly. Seemingly satisfied, Nida took a hearty swallow of his Irish Stout - quite clearly defining who the girl in this relationship was. 

A very familiar sense of dread began to seep into Squall's stomach. 

The words **DATE RAPE DRUG** flashed through his mind headline style, causing all the blood to drain from his face in one horrifying second. More than slightly panicked, Squall quickly pressed his thumb firmly over the head of his bottle. Nida was giving him an odd look, so Squall flashed him a very fake, cheery smile, slightly mocking Nida's own closed mouthed grin.

Nida raised an eyebrow, "Are you feeling ok, Squall?" he punctuated these words by placing his hand on Squalls inside thigh.

Squall squeaked indignantly, jumping up from his stool rather too quickly, spilling most of his drink all over his shoes on the way up. Feeling the fingers of blind panic and nausea threading through him, he thought fast for a way to escape.

"I have to go now! I, err, I'm supposed to go and meet a friend… bye!" Squall ran.

Stunned, Nida sat still for a second - then he went after Squall. You don't just buy a drink for a guy without getting something out of it, that was for sure.

"Squall! Squall, wait!" Nida yelled, shoving people out of the way as he rushed forward.

Squall had made one fatal mistake when he'd run away from Nida - he went the wrong way. He _should _have headed for the front door, forget Irvine and his dratted pub. But no, Squall headed strait for the dance floor. Right into the middle of a writhing crowd.

Nida had absolutely no problem with catching up with Squall, since Squall was currently being sucked into the mob of dancers, throwing him every which way. Grabbing his arm, Nida spun Squall around and yelled;

"At least you could give me a dance before you go! Your friend can wait!" 

Wrapping a tentacle like arm around Squall's middle, Nida pulled him closer, washing beer breath right in his face. His features twisted with disgust, Squall tried to wrestle his way free, but Nida's grip was pretty strong. 

"No! No really," protested Squall, "I've got to go now… Arg! Don't do that!"

Squall shoved away the hands that had been trailing down his hips, heading strait for his groin. It really couldn't get any worse than this.

"Squall?" said a voice in his ear.

It got worse.

Squall tried to turn, shoving Nida's hands away as he did. 

"You!?" he stared, wide eyed. Standing in the middle of the dance floor, with a surprised expression oh his face, stood a certain short, blond, university student. Squall felt his stomach drop like a stone – this was the guy who had tried to chat him up just this morning! Squall was seriously starting to think he lived a cursed life.

He laughed "Yeah, me. I don't think we were properly introduced earlier," he pointed to himself, "I'm Zell Dintch."

Squall blinked, "Err, hi."

"Man, this is such a coincidence! I never expected to meet you here, of all places." Zell laughed again, "At least now I know what you're into" he winked.

Squall felt his cheeks flame up, "Ah, err, you see-"

"Excuse me" said Nida, stepping around Squall.

_Here comes trouble_, though Squall

Nida was slightly taller than Squall himself, so he towered over Zell quite easily. Sizing the other man up with a flickering gaze, Nida used his body to block Squall from view, as if he was trying to protect him. Squall threw his hands in the air, expiated. Why does everyone think there some kind of hero after a few drinks? 

"What exactly," Nida said, his courage boosted slightly by the few beers he'd had that night, "do you think your doing with _my_ date."

Outraged, Squall huffed, "Hey, I'm not-"

But his protests were ignored as a tense air began to starch between Zell and Nida.

Zell scoffed, "What, can't I have a decent conversation with someone without you interrupting?" he coked his head, giving Nida a rather superior smirk. "And besides, I think I have prier claim."

"Oh you do, do you -" Nida looked down his nose at Zell, "- shorty."

There was a rather large intake of breath, and Squall realized that most of the people on the dance floor had stopped dancing to form a circle around the trio. This was not looking good.

"Very original, asshole," Zell laughed nastily, "but you'll have to try harder than that. Besides, why would Squall stick around with an ugly butt monkey like you?"

"You bastard! I'll-" Face bright red with rage, Nida's threw the first punch, missing Zell's cheek by mere inches. Zell had dodged to the side, twitching away then moving his weight forward so he could deliver a few quick jabs at Nida's chest. Winded, Nida clutched his stomach.

Despite his size, Zell was actually a very good fighter. He was in fact a kick boxer with several awards under his belt, so making meat out of Nida was almost to easy. Helpless against Zell's swift kicks to his knee's, Nida cried out in rage and pain. A couple of burly guy's made their way out of the crowd, obviously friends of Nida come to his aid, trying to grab Zell as he spun a quick dance of kicks and punches around them. More people tried to move forward through the crowd, causing a surge of people to mass on top of the fighters like some massive wrestling ring. Someone yelled Zell's name, then all hell broke loose.

Squall was beginning to hyperventilate. People were pushing and shoving all around him, crushing him against tables and broken chairs as he tried to get out. Someone threw a punch strait at Squall's nose, but he ducked at the last second, causing the drunk to fall over him and bring both of them to the floor. Panicked, Squall shoved the other man off him with shaking hands, scrabbling to his feet as quickly as possible. 

Amongst the mêlée Squall spotted a familiar hat. Irvine's head bobbed through the on coming tide of people, moving away from Squall, people and furniture thrown out of the way in his path. Squall tried desperately to be seen above the mass of people, waving his arms at Irvine frantically. 

Irvine must have spotted him, because his course had changed, heading more in Squall's direction. Attempting to meet Irvine halfway, Squall practically swam through the throng, noticing for the first time that the Barman had gotten on top of his bar, and was shouting at someone down a mobile phone. _Probably the police_, the thought sent a new thread of dread through Squall's stomach.

"Squall! Oh man, are you ok!?" yelled Irvine as they reached each other. Squall practically threw himself at his flat mate, grasping his neck and burring his head in Irvine's shoulders.

"Why the fuck does this always happen to me!?"

Irvine laughed roughly, "I know what you mean. Come on man, let's get outta here!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a short while, Squall and Irvine had managed to make it to a corner of the bar, away from the majority of the fight. It seemed like hours had passed, but the fight had only been going on for a few minutes, and Squall thought he could hear sirens in the distance. 

Someone was backed into a table very near to them, falling over his own feet and landing in a heap on the floor. It was Zell. 

Nida's friends were two huge guys named Raijin and Ward, and although Zell was a fairly decent fighter, these guys were just too big for him to take out. Overpowered, Zell knew it was time for quits, but he's been shoved to the floor before he could make a run for it. Groaning in pain, Zell curled his body into a ball on the floor.

Squall had no idea what to do. He felt like both his feet had been cemented to the ground, and all he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. 

"Zell!?" Irvine was yelling "Zell, man, is that you?"

Shocked, not for the first time that day, Squall watched as his flat mate rush over to the fallen Zell. There was a lot of shouting going on at the front of the bar, since the police had obviously arrived and were trying to break things up a bit. At least they hadn't started using the gas yet.

Irvine was crouched down next to Zell, trying to see if he was alright, but also trying to talk to Squall at the same time.

Squall couldn't hear him. He could hear anything in fact. All around him, mouths were moving, but no sound was coming out, and the sound of his own pounding heart vibrating through Squall's body.

**RUN**, said a voice in his head, **RUN NOW**.

Irvine could only watch as Squall disappeared into the crowd, fighting his way past elbows and angry faces to the door. It glowed in front of him like a dark hole, panting and heaving as he stumbled towards it.

All the sound seemed to rush back to him as he sped towards the exit, all the colours around him suddenly coming back into focus.

The outside air felt like a sharp slap to the face. Squall gasped as his cheeks flushed with blood, making his birthmark more pronounced, and also reminding him that he had left his jacket back inside. But his hands where shaking too much anyway, and his poor abused stomach rolled with nervous liquid that was very likely to make its way out if Squall went back inside. He could hear the police rounding people up in the pub, but luckily non of them had stayed outside to see Squall make a run for it down the road.

Shivering and wrapping his goosepimply arms around his body, Squall followed his nose into the street. His breath cause great puffs of smoke in the September air, and the chill seemed to wrap around him like an icy film. His teeth chattered uncontrollably. 

The Odin was not in the centre of the city, so there weren't as many people hanging around outside, making it easier for Squall to shuffle on by without being noticed. This was a godsend, or so Squall thought, so he wasn't paying as much attention as he should have been, thoughts swirling around in his head in a confusing whirlpool. Hurrying along as fast as he could, Squall tried to put as much distance between himself and that awful pub as possible. Trouble was, he couldn't remember the roads Irvine had taken them when he'd driven them here on his Vesper, and it seemed to have grown even darker since then, the absence of a lot of people and the eerie fluorescent lights making everything look twisted and distorted in the shadows. 

Squall didn't think he could feel any worse until he realized he was lost.

Without looking, Squall emerged from under the yellow street lights, trying to think of a land mark he would recognize as he crossed the road - strait into the path of an oncoming vehicle.

If there had been any pedestrians around that night, the only thing they would have heard was the loud squeal of heavy tires, and the thump of a body on the asphalt. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ooh, I'm so evil :D. Anyways, to all the amazing people who review:

**Redrum:** Hee, Squall had to wear eyeliner after all ;). Question's about Irvine shall be answered very soon, don't you worry... *resists the urge to start singing Gay Bar* arg, stupid song...

**Ragdoll:** Get back from the Ukraine soon ragdoll, we misses you! ;_;

**Kolinshar Jackie-chan Benito:** Addiction is only bad if it has nothing to do with my fic's, he he...

**TinyTaz:** Yeah, I wish Irvine was my flat mate too ^^. Anyways, as you can see, Irvine always gets what he wants when it comes to Squall and eyeliner, lol

**Kaycee3:** Wow, someone's actually glade I update, yay *^^*

**faery-of-fiction:** Go and see the picture of Squall in the jumper on my site, its very cute ^^

**FF9 Zidane:** So happy that I can still amuse people with my writing XD.

**deadxdreamer:** hehe, couldn't you just hug them both :)

Well, that's all for now. Cliff-hanger! Ha ha!


	6. Let's take a ride in my Land Rover

Ok, so I know I wrote this ages and _ages_ ago... I just haven't had time to put it up! Honest. 

Don't hurt me .

Anyways, /paperback-trash is now password protected, but I bet you'll be able to guess what it is ;). Oh and Dad, if your reading this THEN YOU SHOULDN'T BE. GO AWAY!!! *ahem* Blimy, I'm the one who gets the parents who laugh at my fic's....

Luv Kafers

****

Ragnarok

By Kafers

Muspell: the first world to exist. - Snorri Sturluson's Edda

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seifer was late home from the office again. Though, 'office' was rather a loose term for the little yellow and black striped tent, equipped with mini heater, rocky wooden table and beer cooler – because the porto fridge had exploded. Seifer ground his teeth as he gunned the engine of his jeep. He was in a fouler mood than usual, which is saying quite a lot for his moods in general, and he had a very clear idea of whose fault that was. That stupid, spoiled, idiot punk kid Dintch had nearly cost them a whole weeks worth of careful excavating, just by trapsing over a very important section of the site - one that Seifer had been over-seeing personally because of the delicate nature of the project – so he could talk to his mate about going down the pub for lunch! Seifer could feel the blood rush to his face at just the thought of what had happened, making his hands clench the steering wheel rather too forcibly. He really needed to start seeing a doctor about stress levels – he was sure it was not normal to experiencing this kind of blinding anger in his line of work. 

And Quistis, ah the lovely Quistis. Seifer knew exactly what she'd have to say about all this - she'd say "Why Seifer, it's because you need to have sex, obviously." 

Well, it was true Seifer hadn't go laid in… a few years. A few years! God almighty, he was pathetic. Throwing himself into his work like it was some kind of substitute for other things, having fantasy's about gorgeous young men who were probably married with five kids, he seriously felt like he'd hit rock bottom. 

The only good side to his life was when someone found something new and exciting for him to investigate. That was when his work really mattered above everything else. It was usually something small, as is the way with archaeology, but that didn't really matter – a piece of fossil that could hold the key to a whole villages staple diet, a lump of metal that turns out to be Viking jewellery, a tattered slip of fabric covered in the most beautiful and fascinating designs, the excitement of sifting through rock in the lab and finding one of these things is what made Seifers life worth living. Although they didn't find anything every working day, when they did it was usually always worth it. They'd be polishing, carbon dating, theorizing and labelling for months afterwards, creating a story of lives and deaths long before they walked the earth, reconstructing a whole time period inside their little white labs. It was exhilarating stuff, and Seifer felt the anger in him drain away as he though about all the things happening on the site at them moment. 

Strangely enough, the purpose of the dig had been kept pretty quiet amongst the work force and the papers, but everyone had their own theories. It had actually been a long acclaimed site years before Seifer's group had got there – people finding all kinds of things whilst doing plumbing work and the like – and Seifer's boss had seemed to have taken a particular interest in it of late. They were working on a new project at the moment, trying to find some kind of Viking place of worship, if one did indeed still exist in, or in fact under, the city of York. This site seemed the most likely place, if not the most available place to dig, since the shops that had once been atop it had all shut-down simultaneously. This was a rather unusual occurrence, but people didn't seem to mind them being torn down, since it was only a Marks & Spencers and a bridle shop, both newish buildings, so they had nothing to do with any of the old heritage buildings of York anyway. The funny thing was, a lot of people actually seemed_ glad_ that the buildings we're being taken down, since there was quite a lot of paranormal activity reported in the area. Apparently there had been complaints to shop owners for, well, time out of memory about some of the things that went on, a lot of them made by plumbers. One of the favourite stories was of a ghostly black fire that appeared whenever anyone was working in the basement of the bridle shop, a fire that was hot but never burnt anything, followed by the customary rattling of pipe's and handing in of resignation letters. Another story that was really popular at the moment was 'The Dying Soldiers'. 

It went that one evening a middle aged woman, working on the night shift, had heard a peculiar noise between the frozen foods and yoghurt section of Marks & Spencers, and had gone to investigate. She had been shock to discover what was described as the most beautiful young man she had ever seen, wrapped in a fur lined coat with a sword around his waist, laying on the floor bleeding to death. Another man, his bowed head obscured, had been clutching his fallen comrades hands, chocking out heart-wrenching sobs, blood weeping steadily from a wound in his side. The woman didn't know much about doctoring, but it didn't take a genius to realize these men where dying. Only half thinking about what she was doing, the woman rushed off to call an ambulance. However, when the paramedic's arrived, both men had completely vanished, taking all traces that they had ever existed with them.

Seifer didn't believe in these kinds of stories himself, and had felt that the person who had told it to him had added far to many grisly details for his liking. Though, he did find it rather fascinating, since it was above the very place that he had been digging today. But being superstitious about digging things up didn't pay the bills. Or, at least, that's how Seifer saw it.

Sighing, Seifer lent back in his chair, guiding the wheel with only one hand (power steering was a wondrous thing). These things seemed to have been mulling around in his head of late, and he wasn't very happy with it, since he hated to chew and worry about things for long periods of time. But there was something – not anything that he could really relate to anyone else – a certain feeling, not unlike an existed flutter in his gut, but also not quite the same, that he got every time he went to the site. It was like he was on the edge of something big, like when he got a pay bonus that he'd been waiting for, but he didn't know what he was waiting for this time. It was unnerving and very unsettling for Seifer, because he had never had such feelings in his entire life, and had always taken for granted that he wasn't very sensitive to certain things. It made him do strange things – like want to stay as long as possible at the site every day, just in case something happened, but then not want to get up and go to work in the morning, just in case something really did happen. He also found himself thinking more and more of a certain mysterious young man, and the more he thought about him, the more he seemed to convince himself that their was something, not special exactly, more like significant about him. Of only he could put his finger on it…

Just as Seifer's mind began to touch on thoughts of the serious young man, someone step out into the road in front of him.

Seifer's heart sped up so fast it felt like it would burst out of his chest. Time around him seemed to slow almost to a crawl. Grabbing the steering wheel with both hands, so slowly he could have been moving through liquid, Seifer turned it sharply to the left. His jaw clenched tightly as the jeep squealed to a halt.

Dark spots had appeared in front of Seifers eyes, and for a moment he could neither see nor breathe. He sat, gasping like a fish, knuckles white where he clutched the wheel.

The sound of Seifers sharp panting was the only noise that filled the night.

Seconds, minutes, hours could have past, and Seifer sat motionless, a dreadful feeling seeping into him like a disease. 

As if in a dream, Seifer fumbled with his seatbelt, then the door handle, almost falling out of the jeep like a useless doll. His legs seemed to have lost their ability to move. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, Seifer's body seemed to take on a life all its own, stepping forward. Then suddenly he was jogging towards a crumpled form on the road. 

It was the body of a young man, dressed all in black, face down and curled into a mock foetal position, arms locked around his head for protection. Seifer knelt down next to him, trying to think of something, anything he could do. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt like it was full of honey. When he opened his mouth all that came out was a dry chocking sound.

The body stirred.

And words fell from Seifers mouth.

"Oh my God… are you alright? Did I, oh God, did I hit you? I'm so s-sorry, oh my God. Please, please, please, be alright, please don't be hurt, oh God! Oh God, what have I done?" Seifer was panicked, and he reached out to touch the boy's shoulder, something he normally knew you shouldn't do if you think the person is badly injured, but he couldn't think, could barley breathe. 

The boy flinched away from his touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squall was in shock. 

When he'd seen the headlights headed straight for him, his normally calm, level-headed nature had deserted him. His thoughts were totally blank. At that moment, some integral instinct in him seemed to take over. 

Quite simply, he ducked. 

Squall had never hit the floor so fast in his entire life. The sound of his naked arms hitting the ground replayed over and over in his head. His whole left side had gone numb were he'd landed, and had now started to throb rather painfully as bits of gravel dug into his flesh.

Squall never heard the sound of the tires squealing; neither did he feel the slight wind the Land Rover caused as it missed his limp body by centimetres – his brain seemed to have decided that it had had enough. For a few moments, everything in Squalls world went totally black.

When he came too, there was a man's voice talking gibberish in his ear. Something touched his shoulder, brining his mind solidly down to earth, moving him. He felt sluggish and weak, like a kitten, blinking his eyes rapidly, his long black eyelashes brushing the ground.

The noise of blood rushing in his ears seemed to drown out the man's voice, who was still talking, his words meaningless. 

To Squall's addled brain the voice could have been anything. The panicked drone of the voice seemed to change, and for some odd reason, Squall thought it was an angel. The voice was a lot calmer, smoother, washing over Squall like a weird kind of music, creating abstract images of red crosses in his head.

For a moment Squall was confused as to why he wasn't travelling down a tunnel of light. 

The cold hand of panic gripped his chest – he couldn't be dead, he didn't want to be dead. He was too young, he hadn't done any of the things he's planned yet. His head filled with memories: Irvine laughing at him as he held his diary for ransom – Selphie's wide, energetic smile – His father's eyes crinkling at the corners whenever Squall showed him something – the smell of his jumper as he slipped it on – the handsome face of a smirking, blond, archaeologist…

__

No, no no no, he thought_, I can't be dead, I will not be dead_!

The voice of a stranger pushed gently at his minds protests, and in the end, that's what made Squall want to get up off the floor again.

Slowly at first, as the rushing in his ears receded, and the pounding pain in his side become more pronounced, Squall tried to ease himself slowly onto his knees. A pair of strong, soft hands solidified around his waist and shoulders, giving him the support he needed to get himself upright. He felt very tired for some reason, leaning against something hard and warm for support, his head spinning as he attempted to put both feet solidly on the ground again.

Squall's brain seemed to click back into place again, and suddenly everything made sense again. Sort of.

Club. Road. Car. Pain. Voice. Hands. Body. Man.

Squall had though for a moment that the voice talking to him was some kind of deity inviting him into the afterlife. Now he realized that, in fact, he was still alive, and now in the arms of a total stranger. Feeling the closeness of the other man for the first time, Squall's face flushed. 

"Are… are you ok?"

Squall's head snapped around, meeting Seifer square in the face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seifer was drowning – drowning in eyes swirling with beautiful grey storm clouds.

Seifer was trapped – trapped by a face that lighted his very waking hour, and every dream.

His mouth was so dry he couldn't swallow, couldn't speak. The intensity of their gazes as they met sent Seifer spinning - spinning out of control as heat, nausea, anxiety, excitement, lust and the burning closeness of the other man filled him to the very brim. 

In his arms. The object of his desire was in his arms. He couldn't quite believe it was real.

If he blinked, the face before him might disappear and become someone else, some stranger that Seifer didn't care for - he couldn't bear that thought. Eyes itching horribly as he tried really hard not to shut them, even for a millisecond, there gazes stayed locked.

"Its you…" Seifer seemed to have finally found his voice. And he had not meant to say _that_! _Oh buggery_, he thought, _say something else and cover yourself_!

"err, I mean, are you hurt? Do you need to go to hospital?" of course, how stupid of Seifer. If he really had been hit, this young man was going to need medical attention!

For the very first time, Seifer heard Squall speak.

"I'm…" he faltered for a moment, his soft low voice sending shocks down Seifer spine. "I'm alright, you-you didn't hit me."

Seifer nearly fell over he was so relieved. This would have been a pretty stupid thing to do, since he was using most of his weight to keep Squall standing.

"I-my side hurts a bit…" For some reason after he spoke those words, Squall started shacking uncontrollably. 

Alarmed, Seifer tried to hold the young man closer to him.

"Gracious," he said, "You must be frozen! One second…" Still keeping one arm around his new ward, Seifer shrugged his long tawny trench coat of his shoulders, the fabric falling heavily into his hand. Very carefully, he slid the coat around Squall's own shoulders, tucking the sides around Squalls slim body like a blanket.

Try as he might, Squall couldn't seem to stop the shudders from wracking his whole body, but the coat seemed to help a little, the musty smell of Seifer's body washing over him. Let himself be led away, Squall followed the pressure of Seifer's hands as he was lead out of the road and towards an impressive looking jeep.

Mindlessly, Squall let himself be lifted into the passenger seat, his safety belt done up for him as if he were a child again, and the door shut securely against his side.

Hurrying, Seifer ran back around the other side of the jeep, practically jumping into the driver's seat, buckling himself in and turning to check on his companion.

The shock seemed to have finally settled into Squall, because before he knew what was happening, tears began leaking from his eyes. Sniffling pathetically, Squall couldn't quite believe himself – he hadn't cried like this since he was six! But once he started, he couldn't seem to stop himself, and a whole knew kind of shaking was wracking his body. Humiliated and confused, Squall pressed his hands to his face, trying to get himself under control but failing miserably. Fat salty tears slid down his palms, making his face feel horribly damp and blotchy. What a way to look in front of the person you fancy.

Unexpectedly, a pair of arms came out of nowhere and pulled Squall's face, rather hesitantly at first, into a warm solid chest. Seifers cotton pullover was soft against Squalls face, and he felt himself shake and sob even more uncontrollably. 

Seifer was doing the only thing he could think of to do – he rocked the young man in his arms slowly, stroking his soft hair with one hand and rubbing his back with the other. The clutch was digging rather painfully into the side of Seifer's thigh, but he attempted to ignore it as he comforted and petted a distraught young man in his passenger seat.

It was a long and painfully intimate moment passing between two strangers. One of the most uncomfortable moments that Seifer or Squall had ever experienced in their lives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, Squalls sobbing began to subside, and the shock of what had happened began to recede. Reluctantly, Squall began to pull away from Seifer, returning to sit back in his chair. For a moment, Squall was able to pretend that he and Seifer we're not in fact perfect strangers, but that they truly did care for each other, and that Seifer was holding him because he felt something for him, rather than feeling the need to be charitable.

An uncomfortable silence followed as moth men sat back and stared at their laps.

Seifer coughed. "Well," he said, sticking out his hand in a comical sort of way, "my names Seifer Almasy."

Squall began to laugh. He could help it, after his stupid show of weakness, and everything else that had happened today, the laughter and random giggles just burst from his mouth. 

Seifer's lips perked up at the edges, and soon he was laughing as well, tears of mirth leaking from the corners of his eyes as he grabbed the young man's hand and shook it vigorously. 

"My-" more helpless giggles irrupted from Squalls mouth, "oh! My name is Squall Lionheart" he managed to finish, shaking back just as hard.

Their laughter subsided into wobbly smiles as they looked at each other and sighed. Seifer coughed.

"Look, I-"

Squall cut him off. "I'm sorry for walking out in front of you."

Seifer blinked. "Ah, no. Don't say that, it was all my fault. Not paying enough attention to the roads…" he trailed off.

Squall gave him a small smile. "Sounds like neither of us pay much attention to roads."

Seifer's laugh was a small one, but the smile he gave Squall told him that everything was ok between them. Which was a start.

Breathing in deeply, Seifer sat up straight in the drivers seat. "I think it's about time I gave you a lift home, don't you think?"

"Oh, what? That's really nice of you, erm, but you don't have to, I mean, if its too out of your way…"

"No, no, "Seifer smiled as he shook his head, "it's quite alright. It's the least I can do for you. As long as it's still in York, I really doubt it's that much out of my way."

Squall bit his lip in a way that made sweat brake out on Seifer palms. 

"Thank you," he said after a moment, giving Seifer the names of a few streets he should go down. Seifer simply nodded – he knew them all quite well.

"Well, shouldn't be longer than about 10 minutes." Seifer started the engine, "That's actually quite near to where I work, anyways."

Squall stared. "Where you work?" he said dumbly.

"Yeah," Seifer smiled at the road, "the dig site. I'm an archaeologist."

__

Well, _wasn't that stating the obvious_, thought Seifer, mentally beating himself over the head. He felt like the presence of Squall (what a fantastic name!) had depleted his vocabulary down to about 10 words.

"I know." Said Squall, surprising Seifer, "I've seen you there."

"Oh," Seifer thought it was about time he shut up. "Do you go there often?" yes, he should defiantly shut up now.

"Mmm," said Squall, in very non-committing way.

"Eh, well, you should," God, Seifer's mouth was really running away with him now, "come more often I mean. I could, er, show you around the site. It's very interesting at the moment, what with all the things going on, at the site…"

__

Kill me now, thought Seifer.

"I-I'd like that. I'm really interested in things…. Like the site! Yes, I'm, er, very interested in the site." Squall's face flushed. Why did he always sound like such an idiot when he opened his mouth?

"Why don't you come down tomorrow then? If it's not any trouble, we're doing some very interesting tests tomorrow, not the kind of stuff you see every day, I doubt anyone would mind having you around and answering your questions.." _Oh, now that was subtle_, Seifer mently rolled his eyes, _at least he won't think I'm stalking him_...

Squall felt his face fall. "Oh, I'd really love to… but I have work tomorrow."

"Oh" Seifer sounded quite disappointed. "Where do you work?"

"The Tyr Café." Squall said without thinking.

"Really?" Seifer's eyebrows shot up. "What a weird coincidence, I was in there just today." He laughed, "We must have just missed each other."

"Lunch brake…" Squall mumbled.

Seifer was smiling again. "Oh well, funny how these things happen. Maybe you wouldn't mind coming down to the site after work, err, if you're not too tired that is…?"

__

As if, thought Squall. "That would be great". Both men turned and smiled at each other.

Flushing, Squall looked away first. Trying to think of something to say, he noticed where they where.

"My flat's just over there"

Seifer nodded and pulled over silently.

Hopping back out into the cold night air, Squall walked automatically up the road and through the old metal gate leading to Muspell House. He fumbled to pull his keys out of his tight jean pockets, feeling a warm body step closer to him.

Seifer had followed him up the small path, just to make sure everything was alright, or at least, that's how he wanted it to look.

Squall took the key out, but instead of putting it into the lock, he turned and faced Seifer.

"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then," Squall said quietly, not wanting to break the silence of the night.

Smiling fondly, Seifer reached out to stroke a thumb across Squall's cheek. "Try not to step in front of any more cars before then".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squall ran through the apartment to his bedroom. After slamming the door securely behind him he slumped against it, pulling in a long breath.

The place where Seifer had touched his cheek felt like a line of fire, a brand against his face. He touched the place softly with the tips of his fingers, feeling the heat of his face as all the blood rushed to the surface. He particly shoved his first into his mouth, stifling the moan before it could surface.

Until that moment, he'd completely forgotten that he was still wearing Seifer's coat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that's the end. 

Or not. Had you worried for a moment there, didn't I? He he he... Anyways, reviwers!

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Radrum: yeah, it would be ironic if Seifer was the one that hit him ;D

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Kaycee3: Pretty Squall's all better ^^

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Tongari: Your crazy, but I love you anyways :). Can you believe this girl reviewed every chapter?? Give her a round of applause *claps* :). Anyways, I've been meaning to ask, are you the same Tongari that's on the Noire Sensus forums? 'cause if you are, I've answered your post with the drawing in it ^^. If not, have a star *

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XxmazleonhartxX: You should visit York, it rox ^_^. I'm hopefully going to Uni there, weee.....

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FF9 Zidane: I doubt Squall's view of the outside world will ever improve... but maybe Seifer lovin' will ^_-

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Hopemia: Yay! Another mulit reviewer. I adore thee....

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TinyTaz: *throws fic for Taz to eat* Food for readers! Eat a cake while your waiting for the next one ;)

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Kolinshar jackie-chan Benito: *meep* don't hurt me, I'm just a poor student with no time -_-.... But I will finish this! Mwha!

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Darksquall: Lot's of hot yaoi indeed :D

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deadxdreamer: *puts on crown* weee, queen of cliff hangers... if you think it's bad now, oh boy....

Well, until next time, don't feed the pretty boys!

Luv Kafers


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